toxic coffee

I was sitting in the café, writing, when she gently opened the door and walked into the room with light, gentle steps. The quality of the room changed. Memories came rushing back. I hadn’t felt the warmth of her presence since I was in the same room as her three years ago—when she died in my arms.

She calmly walked into the café and looked up at the menu with a warm smile. I knew what she was looking for. At this café, she always wanted to know what the coffee of the day was. She used to ask about the origin of the beans and the brewing process, and we came here so often that the staff eagerly provided her answers before she even asked. They were always so happy to see her; they lit up, they could feel how the room sparkled when she was there. They were infected by her tendency to see the beauty in the simple and everyday things in life.

I thought this time would be no exception

but this time was different 

because she had died in my arms three years ago

and the staff did not recognize her. I admired her as she stood in line waiting. She was wearing a floral summer dress I had never seen her wear before. It was colorful and playful—like most of her other clothes. Good moments with her flowed through my memory like a mighty river. Fragments and discomfort in my mind were washed away, allowing my thoughts to glide smoothly and effortlessly. I thought about our mountain hikes, our late movie nights, the time we laughed so hard that wine squirted out through our noses, our long and deep conversations at sunset, when I proposed to her in a boat in the south and when we got married in a fjord in the west, I thought about our honeymoon to the north and how amazing the sex was when we were newly in love. I remembered the times it felt like we were being lifted into new spiritual dimensions because we disappeared into the world we created together. In that world there was only me and her and everything else disappeared and nothing else mattered and I thought about this and daydreamed about the world we created together and then I asked myself what the hell is she doing here in this café? She died in my arms three years ago.

she sat in the chair right in front of me with a cappuccino in hand when she started talking to me. In the foam of her cup, I saw a beautiful swan.

you look quite good today, she said

just quite? I replied

She laughed and took a sip of her cappuccino. The swan in the foam dissolved and changed shape: Its neck curled around and settled like a constrictor snake. The body narrowed and vibrated as she set the cup back on the table.

this coffee tastes absolutely awful, she said.

I froze.

I clasped my hands together on the table. I felt how I tightened my grip and noticed how clammy and gross my hands were. What did she just say? She had never said anything like that before, I thought. 

She was sitting at her favorite café drinking her favorite drink. The place was buzzing with life. Joy and laughter sparkled around us, she was wearing a new dress, everything was fine, why did she hate the coffee?

Who was this woman?

may I have a taste? I asked

she nodded, and I reached across the table and grabbed the cup. The cup had no handle, so I had to grip it all around with my hand. I felt the heat burning in my palm, so I set it down immediately. I had to carefully lift the cup with both hands so that only my fingertips touched it. I placed the cup back on the table right in front of me. I took a teaspoon and used it to sever the head of the creature in the foam. What was once a swan in the foam now resembled more of a dragon guarding the coffee. I held a little of the scalding coffee in the teaspoon. I blew on it to cool it before tasting it.

“what do you think?” she asked

my tongue froze, my teeth froze, the cold rose to my brain, and it felt like the cold was trying to find its way out of my head but couldn’t find a way out, my forehead froze, my eyes froze, my palate froze. My body vibrated as I placed the teaspoon back on the table.

I looked at her.

her face was dead and expressionless. Her gaze was vacant. I searched for the starlit sky I used to find in her brown eyes, but I found nothing. I looked at her, and she looked at me, but she didn’t see me. Did I see her?

Who are you? I asked.

she reached across the table, grabbed the coffee with one hand, and gulped it all down in one gulp. 

Some coffee dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She took a napkin and wiped around her mouth.

I thought, what is she doing here in this café? She died in my arms three years ago. She was my everything; we did everything together, we dreamed together, we cried together, we got lost on the mountain together, we went to church together, we experimented with psychedelics together. Now she was sitting right in front of me, but I couldn’t find her. Her gaze pushed me away. Her coffee was too hot, too cold, her dragon burned in my heart and scratched my brain.

The dragon scratched and scratched, layer after layer of warm memories peeled away from my cortex. I felt how the memories I had with her dried up and withered. They sank into the earth and rotted.

Her dead gaze met my tear-filled gaze, and she said that 

she was the same as she had always been,

she never loved me, she said, 

she used me because she knew her life was empty

but it was never me she wanted, she said

she said she was sorry for hurting me, but that’s just how she is, she said

and I was taken back to that night three years ago when I told her how much she meant to me and that I loved her and that I would never leave her and she looked at me and her gaze withered and she said that she never really loved me and that she had met someone else and it was never really me she wanted to be with and I replied that I had always loved her and would always love her and I gave her a hug and I held her and I felt her die in my arms

What are you doing here in this café? I asked. 

You died in my arms three years ago.

how can you still haunt me?

I thought about the last three years, how painful they had been, how wonderful they had been, I was alone, but it was okay. I wasn’t really alone, I thought I needed her, but that wasn’t true, I was whole without her, she wasn’t my everything, she was different from what I thought she was, I thought I lost everything when I lost her, but in reality, a whole new world was opened to me, I looked at her empty gaze and said I don’t need you and you don’t need me and her face melted and her body melted and she reached out to me and asked if she could give me a hug and she smothered me and I died in her arms

I sat in the café, writing, when she gently opened the door and walked into the room with light, gentle steps. I smiled as I thought about the good memories I had with her. I put AirPods in my ears, took a sip of the day’s coffee, and thanked god for the new life that had sprouted for me. The coffee was full-bodied and round, but too hot